Drawing Hearts
by embracing
Summary: Ever wondered what would happen if your picture was perfect? When you have everything, you have everything to lose. Or so the saying goes. LJ a little fluff and angst. [Oneshot]


**Disclaimer: **Unfortunately, I am not rich and famous, because unfortunately, I don't own Harry Potter.

**Summary: **Because he drew your heart. In those messy lines that he paints. L/J a little fluff and angst.

**Drawing Hearts**

You stand there, years after, once you have perfected the picture. The picture that you painted yourself. The picture that you spent hours, weeks, months, years painting until it was absolutely flawless. You did this yourself. You eventually let friends in your picture, but only after having made your personality faultless, nothing could come between you and your goals.

Your personality that you had spent an age working on was made up of tight rules that you happily followed, because you always follow rules. Your uniform shows that, the uniform that you wear on you face. Because the uniform doesn't let you show all emotions, and that is part of the rules. As showing emotion could lead you away from your goals. And then the fine strokes of the paintbrush would be ruined, and your picture wouldn't be perfect.

He stands on the other side. You can see him from here, but the pride you own won't let you look. For the rules are a little too stubborn. For _you _are a little too stubborn.

You know that he has seen the picture you have painted, but unlike all those around you, he was not in awe of the beauty of it. No. He had been disappointed in it. For he knew that it wouldn't let you see him, because he was the opposite of you.

His painting, which he had ever perfected like you, was so unlike yours. His was made up of messy lines, and friends that had always been there. But even though you both had paintings that had been perfected, your personalities would always be different. For his was not faultless, his was made of many mistakes. Mistakes because he knew that from mistakes you learn. And rules were never a place in his personality. For where would he be? He was a Marauder and took the name personally, meaning that he went to the trouble of breaking as many rules as possible.

But there was one more thing that made you so different, yet so similar. And that is that you have drawn each other's hearts. You drew his a long time before you let him come near yours, but that was because he had started his painting a long time before you.

He had given you his heart to draw when he first asked that stupid question. And each time you refused, you knew that you had a pencil in one hand, and that the outline of his heart that you had drawn, was getting deeper.

But it was a while now, since you had given him your heart. It was the beginning of you painting your picture. Because he had come to you, not knowing that he had a pencil in his hand, and said those three words. The three words that made you give him your heart to draw.

Three words that people whisper all the time, but they never mean it like he did. Those three words that can be whispered as a joke, or screamed in exhaustion. Those three words that you heard muttered from his mouth when he came with that pencil. And he drew the thing that started it all. He drew your heart. So it is now there, under the protection of your ribs, in those messy lines that he paints.

Those three words had gone over and over in your head as you had painted your picture. And now, as you look over at him on the other side, dressed in the red and gold, the snitch still in his hand, hours after the match, you see those words before you, that he muttered as he drew your heart.

_I give up._

And then there were those words that you'd always wished you'd said. Those three words that you wished you'd muttered as he drew your heart.

_I love you. _

But you had been too scared, too shocked, too hurt to say anything. So you had watched him leave you behind, those three words going around and around in your head.

So now, as his friends pat him on the back, you could never regret it more. Because as he raises his glass of Butterbeer to make a toast, your eyes lock with his, and you feel your picture crack in half. The rules have all been broken. Your uniform tumbles down and you show emotion. A tear falls and you rip your eyes away from his and escape from the common room.

Before you know it, you've made it to the astronomy tower, and tears are now cascading down your beautiful face. All you can think of are those three stupid words you should have said. They stumble over and over in your head.

And as you hear heavy footsteps all you can think of are those words. So when you turn and see him there, those are the first words that fly from your mouth.

'I love you.'

He stares at you in shock. His eyes wide. Then takes two steps until he is before you, and swoops down to kiss you on the lips.

And that is truly the end of your picture, except for one piece that used to lay under the protection of your ribs, but now lies for the whole world to see...

that he drew your heart.


End file.
